Today I decided to just sit...

she's prepared for almost any transportation mishap, 

as long as none of them require her to just sit still & think

Story People

I believe that books come to you.. when you are ready to learn the lesson... 

when your heart is open to receive. 

When I was a little (and big) girl, I could not talk.  My mom was ill and absent for quite long periods and I never knew where she was and whether she is coming home or not.  When she was home, she and my dad fought. Through all the fighting and the coping we as a family 'acted' as if everything was ok.  I think it is because we did not know what else to do. Today I know that she was dealing with the loss of her mother when she was only 28 years old...I forgive her and them.

I took my refuge in books. One of my fondest memories are when I was allowed to read books from the senior section in the library even though I was only 8 years old. A whole new world opened up and the possibilities were endless. 

My uncertainty and fears came out through my speech. I couldn't talk. When I did, nobody listened. I started to write my own journals. Which I had to hide, because in 'reality' only crazy people did that. My parents gave us the freedom to explore and be as much as we wanted to, but not to explore or create beyond the borders of what they knew as 'normal'. 

Sitting here..I want you to know that I have the most loving and caring parents. We grew up knowing that they love us and would do anything for us. (And then a voice say: as long as it was within the normality of the borders they grew up with).  

I once saw a card that said: "when families come together, there are always a few nuts between them"... thinking that my siblings were the nuts. (this past November I realised I'm the nut... which I embrace and love). 

With my writing I could say what I wanted to. I could speak from my heart. The teachers could not believe where my words came from. They were shocked, because I never spoke. Even though they knew I was this 'lovely' girl, helpful and kind, they never knew me. They never made the time to get to know me.  

Then somewhere in my senior years I was told to be more careful with what I wrote. I should portrait the beautiful and kind person I am. I stopped writing, because nobody gave me the chance or the door to just explore with what I had, to empty my heart. Nobody could find the time to coach me on how to write more elegantly - for me...it came down to the fact that I could not verbalize what I was feeling, nobody made the time to stop and just listen...even if it was just for minute. I felt invisible. 

So I stopped trying to talk and write. It was just too difficult. 

I continued writing stories in my head... imagine what I would say if someone just took the time to listen...and became a great letter writer. Through my letters to my friends I could say how I feel and they would 'listen' or hear what I was saying. But I never wrote another story, except those in my head. 

When I was 17 I met M3. I still asked a friend to tell him what I wanted to say over the phone, because I couldn't talk fluently, and he said: "tell Lin she doesn't need to talk, she can just listen". 

he told me how beautiful I was. 

(this is a whole post in itself). 

He believed in every bit of who I was. He told me to explore whichever path I had to, to become full circle to the person I believe I am. He supported me in whichever decision I made. He has been next to me for 16 years. We use to joke about the journeys I went on in self-discovery. 'If i could only see myself through his eyes, I would be the happiest person alive".  I realized that all the journeys I go on, is for myself to discover who I know I am, and that all my journeys finishes right next to him. 

What am i saying...writing about? 

I feel as if I (I want to say other people) put me in a box while growing up. Where some of us will fight against that, i just retreated and lived how I thought everyone wanted me to live. Today I realized that I had a choice all those years.  Unfortunately my world was quite unsafe for me to be who I thought I was. Thinking back I think I was too scared of life and everything else to really live. Everything I ever wanted to be and become was criticized, or laughed at. I was laughed at for talking. 

Since I started following my heart (through the encouragement of my wonderful husband, partner and friend), who ALWAYS believed in me, my speech improved and I could start the journey on who I am. 

I'm excited....extremely excited, because I feel as if I was just born... imagining and dreaming of who I want to be and become. I know I'm much older now and my family will tell me I'm crazy to reach for my dreams for who I believe I am, but I feel re-born and excited! 

"Deep writing comes from our bodies, from our breath, and from the ability to remain solid in the places that scare us.  It comes from merging with what we are writing - from dissolving our egos so that the real work can emerge through us, without our conditions for success attached to it."  (from Writing begins with the breath - Laraine Herring) 

The paragraph above touches my heart...for not only does this apply for in writing, but in my life as well.  For being right here, where I am. Writing a journal on the internet (which still amazes and scares me at the same time).  

I don't want to become a famous writer, or an artist or photographer...but I want to be the best at what I enjoy...and love to do. Even if my ability is not that of other brilliant writers, artists, photographers - I would know that it makes my heart giggle with joy and make me feel alive...which is what is most important to me.  

This is me. 

Today i decided to just sit...(and now I have to press 'send' &  not delete!)

xx